


An Evening Out

by winethroughwater



Series: Stay Series [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winethroughwater/pseuds/winethroughwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Zaofu Ballet visits Republic City.  (Written for Day Three "Family" of Kyalin Week on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Evening Out

“I don’t want to go.”  Lin crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, couldn’t give a flying boar how childish that sounded.

“She wants you to be there.”  

Lin flopped back onto the bed and groaned.

“I only agreed not to attack her the next time I saw her.”  And then they had all nearly died and there had been a reconciliation of a sort, she thought, but  _still_.  She’d certainly never agreed to all  _this_.

“This is important to Su,” Kya said again, finally emerging from the bathroom.  “It’s the first time the Zaofu Ballet has performed in Republic City.”  

She glanced at Lin while trying to find her shoes.  The Chief of Police was sprawled over their bed in a fit of stubbornness, dressed in the best clothes she owned.

“You’re getting wrinkled,” Kya warned.

Lin was wearing the clothes Su’s staff had given her back in Zaofu, layers of flowing gray silks, made by the best seamstress in the metal-clan city, no doubt.

Lin sat up, made no effort to right her clothes.  “And that’s another thing.  I can’t help feeling like we’re tempting the Red Lotus.  Painting a big target on ourselves with something this public.”  Put the most important people in the city—no, from  _two_  cities—in one room, she thought and her frown deepened.   _That_  wasn’t at all tempting to a group of anarchists.

“Well?”

“What?” Lin snapped.

Under the weight of Kya’s glare, Lin quickly apologized—“Sorry.”—then tried to figure out what it was she was supposed to be commenting on in the first place.

Kya’s outfit for the evening.  “It’s nice.”

It had also been  _nice_  when Kya had shown it to her last week after a shopping trip with the Sato-girl, one she had been mercifully excused from thanks to a previously scheduled training session with Korra.

Kya didn’t look appeased by the apology or the half-hearted compliment.  

 She was wearing a sleeveless version of Lin’s outfit, the darker grays replaced by blues—a compromise between water-bender and earth-bender fashion.  A little less-form fitting than what Kya typically wore but the colors were nice, and when she moved it did cling and tease, suggesting the curves hidden beneath.

“Are you going to be like this the entire night?”

She caught a note of genuine anger in Kya’s voice, saw disappointment clouding her eyes.  Lin felt a knot of panic settle in her chest like it always did when they argued.

“No.  I’m sorry.”  She stood and straightened her clothes—as good as they were going to be now—and moved to stand in front of Kya.  “Really.”  Her eyes swept down Kya’s body again.  “Nice” may suit the clothes but as for the rest …

She settled for a muttered, “beautiful,” and trailing her fingers down a bare arm.

Lin thought of the metal adorning her own collar, circling her wrists.

Kya was missing something.

She led Kya by the hand into the living area where she paused before a shelf covered in peculiar black shapes.  Lin bit the inside of her cheek, deliberating, then lifted one of the prized meteorites from its home in her collection.

“Here.”  The rock flattened in the air above Lin’s hand, elongated when she moved the other.  “Hold out your arm.”  Kya did as requested and lifted her right arm towards Lin.  The smooth metal wrapped around her bicep; the seam where the edges met melted and disappeared.  It was plain and unadorned; it was simple but bold.

Kya covered the metal with her other hand, ran her thumb across its surface.  She borrowed Lin’s word—“ _Beautiful_ ”—then moved her hand to Lin’s cheek, traced her thumb over the scar closest to her mouth with same reverence she had Lin’s gift.

Kya straightened the collar on Lin’s tunic and rested her hands on her chest.  She laughed softly and Lin was tempted to kiss the tiny lines next to her eyes that accompanied the sound.

“In my tribe,” Kya whispered, “we just got engaged.”  

But first she would kiss that mouth.

* * *

“Do I owe Aunt Katara some goats now?”

“Being culturally insensitive won’t get you out of going tonight.”

* * *

But, oh, how she wished a little narrow-minded thinking could get her out of this.  She’d learned plenty of off-color jokes about water benders over the years that she could have shared with Kya, some from working particularly unsavory beats, most from her mom to wind Aunt Katara up.

Or better yet, she could simply open the earth itself and let it swallow the mass of reporters and photographers swarming outside the theatre as they exited the cab.

Their little party—she refused to think of herself as part of the Bolin-boy’s “entourage” despite what he kept insisting during the drive over—were overwhelmed by screams and questions and flashes as soon as they had set foot on the opulent red carpet running the length of the short walk to the theatre.

Her eyes quickly surveyed the crowds.  There was too much to focus on at once.  Lin couldn’t get her bearings and she didn’t like that.  She spotted a handful of her men keeping the paparazzi corralled behind velvet ropes.

_“Over here, Avatar!”_

_“Avatar!”_

_“Nuktuk!  Nuktuk!”_

_“Who are you wearing?”_

They had only moved a couple of feet down the carpet.  Whoever was in front of them—it looked suspiciously like Varrick but there was no Zhu Li to be seen—kept stopping to pose for pictures and to sign autographs.

She took quick measure of her own group.  Korra looked shell-shocked around the eyes but had plastered on a smile and managed to wave in the general direction her name was being called.  Even Kya’s smile looked a little panicked.

But the Bolin-boy was eating it up.

 _“Nuktuk!  Will you sign my poster?”_   

“Anything for a fan,” Bolin crooned.  He adjusted the curl on his forehead before scratching his name across a rather risqué photo of himself lounging on a bear-skin rug.

_“Will you sign ME?!”_

Most of the teenaged girl’s breast was uncovered before Bolin could respond.  His mouth fell open, eyes-widening, taking the pen from her hand in a daze.

“Keep moving.” Lin’s voice froze his hand in place.  

_“Chief Bei Fong, what’s it like to have such a talented sister?”_

_“Avatar!”_

_“Hey, it’s that guy from the movers!”_

_“And that girl from the newspaper!”_

They were still a few feet from the doors when the crowd started to swell forward, testing the limits of the velvet ropes separating them from the carpet.

“Get these people under control!” Lin barked at the nearest officer.

The young man snapped to attention:  “Sorry, Chief!”

Obviously her men were in need of some serious remediation in crowd control—and she looked forward to putting them through maneuvers next week.  Until they dropped.

_“Avatar!  Avatar!”_

_“Hey, Bei Fong!  Why haven’t the rest of the Red Lotus been caught yet?”_

The hand Lin had been resting on the small of Kya’s back pulled her closer.  She caught Korra by the elbow with her other hand.

“This is a little overwhelming, huh, Chief?” Korra whispered through gritted teeth.   

The damned flashes were making it harder and harder to scan the crowd.  Lin blinked against another blinding pop from a camera less than a foot from her face.  The camera was still smoking but she could see the photographer preparing for another shot already.

“I will smash that if it flashes again.”

* * *

“Would you rather go stand at attention beside the door?”

“Sight-line’s better here,” Lin answered automatically.  Their box seats— _Su insisted, of course_ —offered a bird’s-eye view of the entire audience and the stage below.

An elbow jabbed her in the ribs.

She sighed, caught.

She felt Kya’s hand on the back of her neck.

“Relax.”  

Kya’s fingers gently rubbed at the tense muscles.

“Your best men are posted at the doors, right?”

“Yes,” Lin admitted.    

Despite the crowd outside, security inside the theatre had been thorough.  (So thorough in fact that Mako had insisted his brother be frisked at the door by a burly officer—a suggestion Lin approved with a curt, “You can never be too careful,” only to be vetoed by a warning from Kya, “Lin, really.”)

“Half the dancers are Su’s honor guard,” Kya continued.  

Lin nodded, let her shoulders relax as Kya’s talented fingers eased the knot of tension that had been building all day.  

“And Korra’s within arm’s reach.”  

“I’m right here!”

Korra’s head popped between theirs and Lin’s eyes snapped open, her spine ramrod straight again.  Kya smiled indulgently.

Korra and Bolin were also joining them in their private box, sitting in the seats directly behind them.   

“There’s Asami,” Korra said, leaning over their shoulders to wave across the theatre at the elegantly dressed brunette in the box across from theirs.  “She doesn’t look like she having too much fun.  Too bad she couldn’t sit with us.”

Treating investors to the show tonight, Lin remembered.  She could tell the moment the girl caught sight of Korra:  a coy half-smile and a surreptitious wave.  Asami angled her head to listen to the man beside her then smiled in their direction again.  Lin thought she could see a hint of a blush spreading across her cheeks.  

“It’s the president!” Bolin shouted next to her ear.

“Do you mind?”  Lin shrugged his hand off her shoulder and glared at him.  How he had gotten this impression that they were friends—“Practically related now!”—she did not know.

Kya stood up, pulling Lin up by her elbow.  “Why don’t you two switch seats with us?” she offered.

* * *

 

A roar of applause followed Su as she bowed, hurrying off stage as the lights fell.  Music swelled from the orchestra and the heavy curtains slowly opened to reveal the stage, half a dozen dancers frozen in repose around a monolith of metal.

 “Admit it,” Kya teased.  “You’re proud of your little sister.”

 

“Maybe.”

* * *

“Wow,” Korra and Bolin said in unison.

“I don’t suppose you can do that with your leg,” Kya asked, eyes still glued to the stage but head tilted towards Lin, “and you’ve just been holding out on me.”

“Not and be able to walk the next day.”

* * *

 

Lin recognized the strong, confident lines of their mom’s style of metal bending in the dancers’ movements.   _Why wouldn’t she?_  She practiced them every day.

But the fluidity . . . the sensuality . . .

A sheet of metal curved and quivered and she couldn’t help but think of Kya’s head thrown back, breasts rising . . .

This was definitely not Toph’s metal bending.

And she wasn’t the only one affected by it.  More than person in the audience had a hand to their throat, mouths open in gasps.

She felt Kya’s hand on her thigh, fingers gripping the fabric there.  Her attention was completely focused on the performance but Lin could feel her pulse quickening, watch the change in her breathing.  

She covered Kya’s hand with her own, squeezed.  

“There’s a twenty-minute intermission.”

 Kya nodded.

 

* * *

 

No one official, or even just plain curious, had stopped to ask them where they were going as Lin led her purposefully down one hallway and then another.  Lin’s patented technique of scowling at anyone who looked in their direction seemed effective.

 

Lin opened a door and pushed her inside.  

 

Dust tickled her nose.  Boxes lined the walls and a few rolls of fabric were propped in a corner.  

 

A storage closet.  

 

She’d have to thank Lin and the overzealous security preparations that led to memorizing the layout of the theatre and remembering this forgotten corner.

 

But _later_ , because Lin’s mouth was on her throat, Lin’s body pressing hers against a crate.  

 

* * *

“No jokes?”

 

“No _time_.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I can’t.  _Lin_.  I—I can’t be quiet if you do that.”

 

“I don’t really want you to be . . .  music’s loud . . . walls are thick.”

 

* * *

“Now whose clothes are wrinkled?”

 

* * *

“It was like a flower, but then it opened and there was a . . . a pearl, a sensual pearl--”

 

“Spirits’ sake, Bolin! We all know it looked like a giant metal vagina,” Lin snapped—just in time for a door to swing open, revealing the crowded after party--and Su Yin Bei Fong.

 

“My sister.  The art lover,” Su laughed.  She pulled Lin in for a tight hug, one Lin awkwardly returned.  

 

Su let go of her only to grasp her by the elbows and ask expectantly, “What did you _really_ think of it?”

 

That earnest look in Su’s eyes wasn’t something she had seen very often, not since they were kids.  There had been hints of it in Zaofu if she were honest, but it had only made her all the angrier then.  

 

 _Waiting for her sister’s approval_ , Lin realized.  Kya had been right:  Su wanted her here.

 

“It was breathtaking, Su,” Lin answered honestly.  “Truly amazing.”  

 

When Su hugged her again, Lin wrapped her arms tightly around her sister in return.

 

“I’m so glad you came.  I thought you would,” Su’s voice cracked.  “I hoped, but--”

 

“Of course, I came.”  Lin stepped back and exchanged a meaningful look with Kya, one that didn’t go unnoticed by her sister.  

 

Su laughed.  “Thank you for making sure she came tonight, Kya.”

 

Kya brushed her shoulder against Lin’s, teasing, “She would have anyways.”   

 

“That’s lovely,” Su said, noticing the metal cuff on Kya’s arm.  “Meteorite?”

 

Kya nodded.  “Artistic talent runs in your family.”

 

Lin straightened her tunic awkwardly under the weight of blue and green stares.  

 

Lin’s cheeks were turning the most adorable shade of pink but Kya decided to rescue her before adorable could turn to grumpy.

 

“Now am I wrong,” Kya asked, turning her attention back to Su, “or did I detect a subtle nod to Kong Bai Ji in the second movement?

 

“You picked up on that? I worried it wouldn’t come through.”  

 

Over her shoulder, Kya shot Lin a look that said you-owe-me-one as she let Su pull her deeper into the party.  

 

“But it did, _right_?” Bolin asked, at Lin’s shoulder again.

  

She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

 

“Shut up.”


End file.
